


ELEPHANT - LOUIS TOMLINSON'S STORY

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:50:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1199772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's and elephant in the room. And its name is Harry Styles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ELEPHANT - LOUIS TOMLINSON'S STORY

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [ELEPHANT - LOUIS TOMLINSON'S STORY](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/36417) by abigailwrites. 



> This does not belong to me! All credit goes to http://abigailwrites.tumblr.com :)

It was a normal day. The day Louis Tomlinson got the phone call. The sun was shining, not the least bit surprising as it was June. The sky completely blue. No clouds. A perfect day really. He awoke fresh faced ready to start the day. For breakfast he had simple cereal. Harry wasn’t around to make him eggs and bacon like he always did. But, the boy was coming back. He was only on the opposite side of London. Not that far away from home but to Louis it felt like hundreds of miles. The bed had felt empty without the curly-haired boy next to him last night. He switched on the TV, and sat watching colourful cartoons as he shoved cereal in his mouth, anxiously waiting for the mop of curls to burst in through the door. The phone rang. Nothing unusual, he suspected. Removing himself from the sofa he grabbed the wireless home phone and answered. “Hello?” he asked. Voice chirpy despite the fact it was eight o’clock in the morning. His smile instantly fell. - He always hated hospitals. Everything was too white. White walls, white floors, white coats, white polystyrene cup that Louis was now drinking cheap bitter coffee from. His eyes were patchy, and he was still wearing his slippers. A car crash. A drunk driver. Not Harry of course. He was just the victim. Lucky he was wearing his seatbelt, the doctors had said. Or he would surely have died on impact. The other boys sat next to him. Liam with tired eyes and Niall slightly hung over, hiccupping over a cup of tea as the tears finished falling. Zayn stayed quiet. He always did. Never could handle things like this too well. Especially not when it was his eighteen year old band mate. A doctor came over, sad look on his face. With a clipboard in hand he pushed his glasses up his nose. Louis could hear nothing but his heart pounding in his ears. He could only watch the doctor’s mouth move to produce the words, “I’m sorry…” - Harry’s mum had come down for a day or two. First she visited the hospital, where she’d stayed barely ten minutes before bursting into tears and rushing away. Not being able to look at her baby in such a state. Louis she visited next. As soon as the door was open she engulfed him in a hug with fat tears spilling from her eyes, making his T-Shirt wet. “Shhh,” he said. Stroking her hair. “Come in. I’ll put the kettle on,” Again, Anne barely stayed for long. She’d retreated to Harry’s room where Louis had found her sat on his bed, cradling an old hoodie and sobbing hysterically. “It’s okay,” Louis tried to soothe her. “He’s home in a few days. He’ll be all right,” She left without drinking her tea, still with Harry’s favourite hoodie in her hands. - Louis rushed around the apartment. Flinging clothes in the laundry basket and shoving plates in the dishwasher. Harry was home today. He’d been pretty seriously injured. The doctors said they wouldn’t be able to see him. That’s why they were sorry the day of his accident. They knew how desperate they were to see him. It was frustrating. Five days it had been. And the only news Louis was allowed to receive was provided through the phone. He didn’t understand why himself and his band mates couldn’t visit. But, he did as he was told and waited impatiently. The moment the doorbell rang his heart leapt. He flung it open, and there was the boy. Curly mass of hair still on his head, although a small strip had be shaven away where it was replaced by an ugly looking wound. A deep cut down one eyebrow and one on his cheek too. His dry lips cracked into a smile. A tear of joy fell from Louis’ eyes. He stood back, and allowed both Harry and the nurse to walk in. Harry accepted, limping into the apartment and thumping down onto the sofa. The nurse just stood by the doorway. “Mrs. Cox has requested,” the nurse began, talking of Harry’s mother, “that you keep him safe. He must not do anything too quickly. He is still recovering,” and with that she walked away. Louis shut the door, and turned to the younger boy on the sofa. “Welcome home,” he smiled. Drinking in the familiar appearance of the Styles boy moulded into their sofa. It was as if he’d never left. “It’s good to be back, Lou,” Harry grinned, his voice sounding sore. - As requested the boys didn’t do much. In fact Harry barely left the house. He was still in pain. They had visitors some times. Mainly the other lads who came over with sad faces to check up on them. “Cheer up,” Louis would laugh. “He’s fine. Nothing to worry about,” to which they would pull a disgusted face and say, “I’m going, Lou. See you soon,” Louis would turn to Harry in confusion, who would only shrug back. “Want to watch a DVD?” Louis would say. To which Harry would nod. They’d curl up on the sofa, Louis running his hands daintily across Harry’s bruises and scabbed skin. “Did it hurt?” he whispered, tracing purpled skin on his forearm. “I don’t know,” Harry whispered back, “Didn’t really feel it. I was unconscious as soon as the guy hit me. The next thing I knew I was waking up in a hospital bed,” Louis smiled, and brushed away the salty tears threatening to fall. “You were on your own,” Louis whispered sadly. “We weren’t allowed to visit. I don’t know why,” he hiccupped and sniffed. A few tears spilling as his chin wobbled. “Hey, it’s okay,” Harry said, placing a hand on Louis’ check and pulling him closer. “I’m here now. That’s all that matters,” he brought their lips together in a soft kiss. Gentle. Harry’s lips didn’t feel the same. They were dry and scabbed. Not full and soft like they use to be. But Louis enjoyed it none the less, just thankful that he had his boy back in his arms. “I love you,” Louis said once he’d broken the kiss. He looked longingly into those green eyes. “Please don’t ever leave me again,” he really did cry this time. He could not imagine what it would be like to lose Harry Styles. The most important part of his life. The part which two weeks ago was almost taken away from him. It was the most painful thing he’d ever felt. Much more than a kick to the stomach or a hangover. His heart had hurt for those five days, even though he knew Harry was coming home. “I promise,” Harry said. A smile on his face which seemed to be laughing at Louis’ pathetic tears. “I’ll never leave,” and Louis took that as a promise. He would never leave. Never. - Harry had been home for nine days…two weeks since his accident. He was feeling much better now. Sometimes they’d take a walk down the park, or go groceries shopping together. Louis brought whatever Harry wanted, even if he didn’t want it himself. Harry would laugh and say, “It’s okay, Lou. I’m not a baby. I don’t need all this stuff,” but regardless Louis would toss another DVD and some Haribo into the trolley. He was only doing it to spoil the guy. Harry had been confined to a bed for five days, and had spent another nine at home barely doing anything. He must be as bored as fuck. Louis didn’t really know what to do to make him smile. And had resorted to buying him unnecessary things. “I think we should go out with the boys,” Louis said one night as they sat on the sofa, cramming pizza into their mouths. “We haven’t really seen them since you came home. I can’t help but think they’re avoiding us or something?” and it was true. The boys had visited maybe once or twice in the space of those nine days that Harry had been home. By now the band should have been back in the studio, but due to Harry’s accident all were allowed off for a few more weeks. Louis came to understand though, that the three boys had actually been doing interviews without him and Harry. Mostly radio, but he’d caught them on ITV too. Huddled together looking sorry for themselves on the sofa. Louis didn’t know why, but he was keen to find out why they were doing this. Harry may be unwell, but that didn’t mean they could leave him out. So, right there and then Louis picked up his phone and dialled Liam’s number. “Hello?” the tired boy said once he picked up. “Hey, Liam,” Louis began, for some reason nervous. They hadn’t spoken properly in such a long time. “Louis?” Liam questioned, his voice changing tone. “Yeah, it’s me. How are you? Listen, I was thinking that-” he began, but Liam interrupted him. “How do you think I am, Louis? What’s wrong with you lately? You’re so distant. We need you right now but you’re acting as if everything’s a joke! We knew you’d be taking it hard but-” “Taking what hard?” Louis asked. His voice held a hint of laughter. What was Liam going on about? “Harry’s accident, you mean? Yeah, I did take it hard. But, he’s fine now. I’m quite surprised you haven’t visited more actually. He’s been feeling a bit…” Louis glanced over at the boy on the sofa who was cramming food into his mouth and tapping away at an Xbox controller madly, “confined,” Louis finished off. There was silence on the other end for quite some time. But finally Liam spoke. His voice was restrained, and it sounded like he’d been holding back tears. “I think we need to talk, Lou,” he croaked. “Yeah, I think we do too,” Louis said. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I want to know why you, Zayn and Niall have been doing interviews without us! And why you haven’t visited Harry! I mean every time you come over you stay for about two minutes and then-” Liam broke down then. Over the phone Louis could hear the usually strong boy sob and choke. “W-w-we’ll meet you at ten, Lou. C-come to mine, yeah? I think…I think we need to talk,” and with that he hung up. Louis started at his phone in disbelief. “Who was that?” Harry asked through a mouthful of pizza. “Liam,” Louis replied. Still shocked at Liam’s words. “He sounded mental. Said we needed to talk or something. We’re meeting him tomorrow at his. That’s okay, right?” “Yeah, sure,” Harry said. Not really paying much attention. - They arrived at Liam’s apartment at 9:56 exactly. The boys didn’t all live together anymore. They still lived close, but all had their own places. As much as they loved each other, they needed a break from each other too. It was only Louis and Harry that continued to enjoy each other’s company on a daily basis. Both boys knocked on his door, and Zayn answered. The boy was looking pale. Although his eyes were framed by dark circles. He looked exhausted. “Come in,” he barely managed to whisper. Louis bit his lip and entered. The other two boys were sitting on the sofas, cradling cups of tea in their hands. It was silent as eyes landed on Louis. “Hi,” Louis spoke after a long while. Plonking himself onto the sofa next to Niall who went slightly ridged at the presence of the older boy. “I’m just gonna go to the loo,” Harry said, wandering off down the hall to the bathroom. No one seemed to have a reaction to his presence, but Louis chose to ignore that. “So,” Louis began, taking a biscuit. “What’s going on?” The room again, was silent. Nobody knew what to say. Nobody knew how to start. It was Liam who spoke first. Niall sighed in relief, always knowing that the brown eyed boy would explain. “Louis…I think…we think,” he took a deep breath; “We think you’re ill.” Louis looked taken aback for a second before bursting into laughter. Zayn shut his eyes at the sound and shook his head. Almost like the tiny bit of hope he was holding onto had finally escaped. “What are you on about?” Louis said, looking at each boy individually. “Lou,” Liam began carefully, “You really haven’t taken it well and…well. We’re really concerned. We’ve all found it hard. And, you were the closest to him so…so we always knew you would be a bit mental afterwards but…we didn’t think you’d act like this,” Liam sighed and licked his lips. Niall whimpered and hid his face. “A bit mental after what? What are you talking about?” Louis asked. The boys were in shock. How could Louis be so confused? None of them answered him, and he was beginning to get angry. “What are you talking about?” he bellowed. Zayn flinched and Niall scooted away from him. “Why are you not answering me?” Louis continued to shout. “You’re the ones who have been acting strange for days! You haven’t come to see us, and when you do you barely say, “Hi,” before you run off again! What the fuck is going on. Why are you doing fucking interviews without us? I know Harry’s not exactly up to doing promotion and stuff at the moment, but that’s no reason to start doing it without us!” That was it. Niall broke down. He sobbed into his cup of tea and the realisation hit them all. But none of them could say it. They didn’t suspect he’d understand. “I said what the fuck is going on?” Louis’ eyes were wide with rage. He was furious. Why couldn’t they just say it? What the fuck was so difficult. “L-L-Louis,” Liam stuttered carefully, his chin wobbling. “Harry’s dead,” The world stopped. “What?” Louis laughed, still mad. “What the fuck are you talking about? He’s right here! You saw him walk in,” Zayn dropped his cup and pressed his hands to his face breathing heavily. “Harry!” Louis called, “Harry, come out here right now!” Louis groaned in frustration and ran to the bathroom. He flung the door open, expecting to see Harry sat there laughing…but he didn’t see anyone. “Harry?” he called again. Quiet this time. “Harry don’t do this to me,” he laughed…but worried this time. He walked out of the bathroom to see the boys standing there watching him…tears streaming down their faces. “He died two weeks ago, Louis,” Liam told. “He never made it out if the hospital,” His world came crashing down…and then he saw it all. - “I’m sorry,” the doctor said with false sincerity. “We did all we could. But he, uh…he was pronounced dead on arrival. I’m extremely sorry for your loss. A nurse will be over to see you shortly,” and with that he walked away. “No!” Liam cried, his voice dry and hoarse. “No! No. No. No,” his fingers covered his face and he continued to scream. Tearing at his hair. Niall had fallen to the floor, stomach churning. He felt sick. He coughed and spluttered and sobbed. He rested his burning forehead on the cool, white floor, not caring about what the other people thought. They’d lost him. Zayn was shaking. His entire body. Trembling. Everything. His fingers, his lips, his fucking eyelashes. Tears were everywhere. A salty taste filling his mouth as he muttered to himself how this could not be real. But Louis remained calm. Still. Perfectly so. Almost like he didn’t hear…he didn’t want to. Because Harry couldn’t be dead. Who were they fucking kidding? It was a joke. A sick joke and Harry would be home in a couple of days. Because if Harry was really dead, Louis’ world would shatter. And that couldn’t happen. He got up, and he walked away. Without a word. Without even blinking. He walked straight out of the hospital ignoring the people who called him, and he went home. And he waited…he waited for Harry to return. - Anne walked into the apartment. Barely seeing anything through her tears. She was shaking too, just like Zayn. Her legs threatened to buckle. She saw everything. Untouched. Harry’s pants thrown on the floor, Harry’s mug sat on the coffee table. Like he’d never left. As Louis put the kettle on she went to Harry’s room. Untidy. Harry was always untidy. She collapsed onto his bed, breathing in her son’s familiar scent. The tears never stopped. Not once. She found that purple hoodie and she held it close to her heart. It was his favourite. She wept. She wept for the memories. Every single one. Her baby. Cruelly taken away from her. She didn’t even get to say goodbye… “It’s okay,” she heard Louis say from the doorway. She turned to him in astonishment. “He’ll be home in a few days,” he was smiling. Laughing almost. Her lips pursed. How dare he! Who did he think he was? She pushed past him violently and excited the apartment without a word. - Louis answered the door, to find a nurse standing there with a stern face. “Hello?” Louis said, confused as to her presence. “Mrs. Cox has requested,” the nurse began, ignoring Louis’ gesture to come inside, “for you to please not contact her again. Not until you are well. She is in great pain at the moment, Mr. Tomlinson. She needs time to grieve, as I’m sure you do to. I am sorry for your loss,” she said without any emotion. She handed him a card and walked away. A number for a therapist. Louis scoffed and threw it to the ground. - “Hi!” Louis said, opening the door for Zayn to walk in. “How’re you?” he asked politely. “How the fuck do you think I am?” he replied bitterly. Louis patted his shoulder and said, “Cup of tea?” Zayn nodded and wiped his eyes clearly tired. “Here,” Louis said, handing him a cup. They smiled at each other briefly, before sitting down on the sofa. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” Zayn began. “I can’t get my head around it. Niall’s cried himself to sleep every night so he’s told me,” “Cheer up,” Louis laughed, causing Zayn to snap his head up in alarm at the older boy. “He’s fine. Nothing to worry about.” Zayn continued to stare, before shaking his head in disgust. Was this some kind of joke? “I think it’s time for me to leave, Lou,” he said, putting his untouched tea onto the coffee table. “Take care, yeah? See you,” he said before leaving Louis on his own. - Louis pushed the trolley down the aisle, receiving odd looks from other shoppers as he threw things into it. Things he didn’t even like…or know how to cook. He brought them for Harry. He got home and stacked them into the cupboards, or placed them in the fridge. Half of it would never be eaten. At dinner time Louis made one meal. Setting out one plate for one serving of pasta. He got one glass and filled it with water, and he sat and ate his dinner. That was the reality. In his head he’d made two, and he was sitting across the table, laughing and chatting with the injured boy in front of him. After dinner he’s switch on the Xbox, and plug in one controller. But he’d select two player. “You promised,” Louis would mutter, as player one moved but player two stood perfectly still. “You promised. You promised you’d never leave,” And he never really did. Not to Louis anyway. Because to Louis…Harry was sat next to him. Playing the game too. And he was replying, “I did promise. And I’m still here. I never left.” - Louis put his hand on the wall. Steadying himself. He went pale. “He promised,” he muttered to himself. “Lou?” Liam asked carefully. “He promised,” Louis said a little louder. His mad eyes turning to the three frightened boys in front of him. “Lou, I think you need help,” “He promised me!” Louis cried. Falling to the floor and sobbing like he’d never sobbed before. He was hysterically. And Niall was terrified. He stepped back, not knowing what to do. He gripped at Zayn’s arm as Liam moved closer. “Louis?” Liam called softly, trying to gain his attention. The brown haired boy turned to the others and mouthed, “Call an ambulance,” “Louis?” “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” he sobbed. He curled up on the carpet, in a foetus position. “Why? Why? Why?” he muttered repeatedly. “Come on, Lou,” Liam said, crying himself and trying to lift the boy up. “Let go of me!” Louis screamed, thrashing away from Liam. He sat, rocking back and forth. Liam didn’t know what to do. He felt helpless. Louis was crazy. And it was scaring him. Niall was sat on the floor, quietly crying as he watched Louis fall into insanity. Zayn came back, phone in hand. He nodded to Liam. Sure enough ten minutes later they arrived. They found Louis shaking on the floor, whispering to himself. Niall muttered to one of the doctors that they didn’t know what to do. They were afraid and Louis just screamed and wouldn’t listen. He placed a hand on the Irish boys shoulder. “He’ll be okay.” It took a lot of effort. But the two doctors took him away. They took one arm each and dragged him out of Liam’s apartment. He kicked and thrashed, but they were strong. “I’m sorry,” Zayn whispered, dropping the phone to the floor and feeling instantly guilty. The door was shut behind them, but they heard the Doncaster boy screaming all the way down the stairs. The three boys watched through the window as Louis was strapped down and taken away. Harry Styles was an elephant. And everybody wanted to talk about him…but no one dared did. It was the end for them. The elephant in the room had ruined it all. One Direction was no more. One member dead. The other insane because of it. “Now what?” Niall whispered to the two boys beside him. They didn’t answer…they couldn’t. - Six months Louis had been in rehab. It had been hard. So hard. Schizophrenic tendencies he had. A result of Harry’s death. One Direction had long broken up. That’s what the interviews were about. They couldn’t carry on without Harry. Not ever. And Louis had gone too. He wasn’t dead. But he might as well have been. Because he wouldn’t speak to anyone. Not for a long time. Not the doctors, or nurses, or his parents, or his ex-band mates. He held a vague expression and would just stare into the corner of the room. Hoping that Harry would appear again. He cried himself to sleep every night. So did Niall. Zayn wouldn’t feel comfortable unless he had thrown up and Liam had picked up smoking. They’d all taken it hard. But Louis the worst. It took five months for Louis to say anything at all. It wasn’t even in a meeting. It was at dinner time. He usually sat on his own. But for some reason, that day he joined one more. “He promised me,” he said to this one boy in particular. The boy turned to him, cuts across both of his wrists. “Yeah…she promised me too,” the boy said. “He was in a car crash,” Louis said. “She committed suicide,” the other boy said. “Did you try to?” Louis asked, referring to his wrists. “No, its how I dealt with the pain. What about you?” “I have schizophrenic tendencies,” “Impressive,” “It hurts,” “I know…do I know you?” “I was famous once,” “Not anymore?” “We can’t carry on. Not without him,” “I understand,” “You understand?” “Yeah, I understand,” “You’re the first,” After that Louis felt better. He wasn’t the only one. Someone understood. He’d never be over Harry’s death. Not ever. He would always be slightly crazy. He didn’t know what was next…he couldn’t work again. Not for a long while. And the doctors said he couldn’t live on his own. He saw his mum. She came to pick him up, along with his little sister. She was hesitant, but when he pulled her into a hug she let the tears free. “I thought you were gone forever,” she whispered to him as he pulled away. “So did I,” he still felt gone. He would never truly be there again. Because something was missing. His insides were missing. Harry had them. Where ever he was. - Louis didn’t visit the grave for quite some time. He wasn’t allowed to. He was stuck in Doncaster with his family. But one day, when he promised he’d come back, he got a train to Holmes Chapel and he found it. Fresh, with many flowers. He smiled down at him, underneath the ground. “I miss you,” he said. Knowing Harry could hear. For six months he hadn’t spoken to his ex-band mates. He wondered if he ever would again. They were still in the papers. Zayn was skinny, and didn’t have many friends. Niall never left the house, but when he did he looked tired and ill. It was Liam who was the tabloids favourite. He partied a lot. Never drunk because of his one kidney. But high on other things. Louis always thought he was the sensible one. The media seemed to leave Louis alone. Maybe because he looked crazy now. His hair was limp, his eyes bland, his skin pale. A dazed look on his face constantly, like he was in another world entirely. The fall of One Direction. No one predicted it. Not in this way at least. It was sad. The fans were devastated. They flooded Twitter with sympathy, crying over his death. Eighteen years old. Far too young. But they understood the split. Because nothing would have been the same any more. - Louis went back to London a year later. He felt better, and had learnt to smile again. Liam was still partying. His hair was always greasy and Danielle had left him a long time ago. Zayn was too thin now. Clothes didn’t fit him anymore. But he liked it that way. And no one had seen Niall. Because Niall was afraid to go outside. It was dirty, he would say. Full of scum. His house was spotless. Everything clean. It smelt like bleach. He was use to the smell. And Louis hadn’t seen Harry since the day he left rehab. He came to realise he wasn’t really there. But he still spoke to him. When he made his dinner, or when he went shopping, he would talk to him. “Spaghetti, your favourite,” he would say in the middle of Sainsbury’s. He knew he wasn’t there. He wasn’t crazy any more. He just liked to pretend he was there. He only played one player games now. Because Harry wasn’t there to join in. But he still would comment to Harry when he managed to shot a zombie through the head. And at night, he would whisper before he fell asleep. “I miss you, but you’re here.” - It was a normal day. The day Louis Tomlinson saw him again. He was walking down the street, one shopping bag in hand. He was almost home. He could see his front door. He was so eager to get inside he did not see the person walking towards him. He bumped his shoulder. “I’m so sorry!” Louis said, turning around to meet green eyes. “It’s okay,” the person said. Smiling widely at the older boy. “You’re back,” Louis grinned. Not quite believing his eyes. “I said I’d never leave,” Harry Styles grinned back.


End file.
